


The Silence is so Cold

by PennamePersona



Series: Clinic AU [13]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Family Issues, Gen, Implied Troubles, Resolution, Silence, The Accident, character injury, deafness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennamePersona/pseuds/PennamePersona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meulin refuses to speak. There is no  retribution to be had. It seems as though there will never be any solution to this.</p><p>Multi-character perspective on the aftermath of the accident that leaves Meulin deaf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silence is so Cold

**Author's Note:**

> It's sort of surprising that, out of all the Clinic AU fics I have in the works, this is the one I finished and posted. But also, I like posting fics, especially in this verse, and there are so many aspects of this verse that I find interesting, so here you are. If there are errors, feel free to point them out. I didn't look this one over, really.

"And then my sweet bro starts to laugh that pretty laugh, you know the one I'm talking about?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, Gamz," You say, mostly paying attention, but your focus is divided between Gamzee talking and Gamzee's hair, which you're trying to put under some semblance of control.

 

"So of course I tell him how pretty it sounds," Gamzee says, because for him, it is the natural course of action. "And that brother is blushing like - well, like something that blushes real hard, I 'spose."

 

"Lovely analogy," You say. 

 

"Thanks, brother." He says, and you're a bit pleased to be able to tell that he's joking.

 

"Anytime." You say, wrapping the last hair tie around the end of the braid. "There you go."

 

"Nice," Gamzee says, reaching up to touch the many braids in his hair. It isn't pretty by any means, it's a mess, really, multiple thick braids of Makara hair, which refuses any kind of guidance or control, much like the family its attached to.

 

"Glad you like it," You say, smiling at how ridiculous he looks. Makaras might be difficult, but Gamz has been good for so long. Maybe there really is this hope. Maybe it'll be okay. And Meulin seems...well, she's okay for now. And Kurloz isn't a bad guy, he's just...well, he's not his dad just like Gamzee isn't _his_  dad. It could still be okay.

 

You've got to hold on to that hope or you might break. And besides, Kurloz has been so good for Mituna, which of course scores him points with the family. Meulin can take care of herself, you know that, she's a Leijon. 

 

So why do you still feel uneasy? Why does all of your family still feel uneasy?

 

"What wrong, my brother?" Gamzee asks, giving you a look of such genuine concern that you can't do anything but sigh and avoid his gaze for a bit. 

 

"It'll be fine, Gamz." You say. He still looks concerned, but he nods. He knows when to let it be, which you're very grateful for. 

 

Your phone rings, then, and you pick it up, even though you can't quite imagine who could be calling. Everyone should know where you are, and it's not like you aren't responsible enough to get home on time.

 

"What is it?" You ask.

 

"It's Meulin." The voice on the phone says. It's Aunt Disa. 

 

Your blood runs cold.

 

* * *

 

You all knew. It's the only thing you can think, with your child, your Meulin, your little one lying there on a hospital bed. She's conscious, but she won't look at you. There are bandages around her head, and your heart breaks a bit.

 

You know why she won't meet your gaze. It's a curse of your family, really, a curse that comes right on the other side of the pride. Her hearing will be damaged permanently at best, gone completely at worst.

 

"I am not ashamed of you, little one." You say, brushing one hand over her forehead. She does not move. "I love you."

 

There is no response. Your brow furrows lightly, and you wonder if, perhaps, you were wrong about this.

 

You draw the words out on her skin, wondering if, perhaps, her senses are dulled enough that your words did not register even in her peripheral. 

 

She still does not move.

 

Your blood chills.

 

* * *

 

You stroke your daughter's hair. It's been over a week, and she will still only barely respond. It's psychological, the doctors say, as though you don't already know.

 

Others might not know, though, and you're grateful for any insight they can give you.

 

'Please, Meu.' You trace on her skin. 'Can't we talk?'

 

There is a minute of silence.

 

She turns her head just enough to see you more clearly, so she doesn't have to strain her eyes to watch from the periphery.

 

'Will you let me help with what is hurting you?' You sign.

 

'I am hurting.' She signs back.

 

'I know.' You sign, almost confused.

 

'I am hurting.' She repeats. 'He hurt me he is hurting hurting hurting hurting hurt hurt hurt ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow'

 

She is still repeating "ow" when you stand. She does not notice when you move to the door, tapping twice. Disa comes in, sees Meulin immediately, and hesitates just slightly before moving over to her bedside.

 

It is the hesitance that sends a shiver through your veins.

 

* * *

 

The first time you say that you hate someone is in the comfort of your own home. Your sister is in her bed, her own bed, finally, and the entire family is still shaken. You are teaching the sign language you know to everyone and anyone who asks, and you sit by her bed for at least an hour a day.

 

You'd sit for more than that, would never leave her side, but she always dismisses you.

 

"I hate him." You say firmly. The only person in the room with you is Porrim.

 

"I know." She says. "But we can't lay one finger on him."

 

"Can't even speak to him." You spit. "Coward."

 

"Is he?" She asks. "But it doesn't matter, really. Even if he wanted to talk, he'd have quite the time getting past that barricade."

 

"I don't care." You say, which isn't true, and Porrim knows it. "I don't _want_ to care."

 

"But you do." She says, one hand on your back. "That's not a bad thing, Kanny."

 

You know that. You know that caring isn't bad, that it's a pride point in your family, and yet, here you are, demanding everything that you've always been told to stand against.

 

You feel shivers of disgust run through you.

 

* * *

 

You look down at your hands. 

 

They're still good, still functional.

 

Most of you is. Just your ears.

 

Just...

 

And your mouth. But that's. That's not real, it's just.

 

It feels so wrong, to refuse to speak, just because you know he won't. And he did this to you, didn't he?

 

...didn't he?

 

Well, you didn't land yourself in this bed.

 

Ohhhh, but it feels so wrong to blame him...

 

Or rather, it should.

 

But it doesn't.

 

You curl in on yourself.

 

You are so cold.

 

* * *

 

"Fuck this." You say, standing up and marching over to the door. 

 

"No, Karkat." 

 

Aunt Disa's hand is on your shoulder. You tense up. You know you should listen, you know it's not the right thing to do, and even if it was, it wasn't your daughter that got hurt. But it feels so wrong, just letting this happen.

 

"I can't just sit here." You say. "I feel so useless. My cousin's laying there, in her bed, half of what she used to be. And the guy who did it is just out there!"

 

"I know." Aunt Disa says. "But there's nothing we can do to him. It wouldn't help, regardless."

 

You wonder how many times she's had to repeat that for it to become true. You think you're in the hundreds and still having troubles.

 

"Besides," She says. "How would Gamzee feel?"

 

"Oh, I know exactly how Gamzee feels." You say. "Why do you think he hasn't been over here? He knows none of you blame him. He'd want to help, if he could think straight. He'd be over here with cookies or pie or what-the-fuck-ever-else, but he's holed up in his room, high as a fucking kite."

 

"His father?" She asks.

 

"I wish." You spit. "That whole family's gone wrong. Kurloz might've been able to get out of it, if this hadn't happened. He got sucked in too early, with his dad being the head of it all. And Gamz..."

 

"He could still - " 

 

"He's got half a chance at best." 

 

You hate saying it, but lying won't help the situation.

 

You're both silent. You feel stuck, like you're frozen in a block of ice. 

 

* * *

 

"Do you want to see Kurloz?" You ask, even though it kills you. You don't expect an answer. 

 

"No."

 

Your eyes widen, and you lean forward in your seat.

 

"Meulin," You breathe, amazed at the sound of your daughter's voice.

 

"I don't want him." She says, looking right at you. "I need time. And help."

 

"Of course." You say and sign, as best you can. "Of course, Meulin. I've already found some places that could help."

 

"Tomorrow." She says.

 

"Tomorrow." You agree.

 

"Go on." She says. "Tell the others. And...I'm sorry, dad. That it took this long."

 

"No," You say and sign. "None of us blames you. I'm sorry there's nothing we could do to help."

 

"I just needed the time to figure things out." She says. "You all did help. It was good to know you cared. Now go tell them, before Kankri finally sneaks out to go beat Kurloz to a pulp."

 

You stand, clasping her hand tightly, and leaning over to kiss her forehead before you leave.

 

You walk out, immediately walking into Kankri's room without bothering to knock.

 

He's standing next to the window, which is open, in all black.

 

You sigh. 

 

"It's 3 AM and cold outside." You say, closing the door and starting the - inevitably long - discussion.

 

* * *

 

It's been years since it happened.

 

Everyone got so much better at sign language, even those that barely knew a few words. And Meulin could already read lips with the best of them, so communication was reasonable even at the start.

 

Her voice got a bit too loud sometimes, but that was an easy price to pay for hearing it.

 

You remember when you got the call that she started talking. It did wonders for you, and affects you still, even now.

 

Even like this.

 

You stare at your phone. Can you really do this? Can you really admit yourself to this kind of help, leave your family behind? Because they won't approve. You already know that.

 

But you think of what your cousin has become. Kurloz isn't someone to look up to, anymore. He's too far gone, just like your uncle.

 

You press the call button and hope that someday, somehow, you can push through this.

 

You send a silent thanks to Meulin and that entire family for everything they've ever done for you.

 

And today, the anniversary of the day Meulin started talking, you call for help.

 

The action makes you warmer than you've been in years.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you liked it, kudos are nice and comments are wonderful.
> 
> You can also contact me at: pennamepersona.tumblr.com.
> 
> [Buy me a coffee!](https://ko-fi.com/A375K8Q)


End file.
